


Remember Greece?

by orphan_account



Series: The Miscellaneous adventures of Sam Drake [2]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Ancient Greece, Angst, F/M, Sam is a bit of a dick, first fic be kind, like hella angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: On a trip to Greece, Sam meets someone that will change his life forever.Too bad he hasn’t got much time left.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work so please be kind :) I might add another chapter if I feel up to it, but please enjoy!

**PRE-PANAMA**

 

“___? ___!” Sam cried, scrambling through the dark. The building had collapsed, and she wasn’t answering the walkie talkie - he could only hope she was safe.

Blanching his way through the cramped tunnel, he could just about make out a small glimmer of firelight at the opening. Maybe it was her, he thought, waiting with her torch.

Soon enough, he could stand in the old room. It was decorated as the rest of the temple had been, the Ancient Greek murals dancing across the walls in splendid colours, and the pillars standing at each end of the room, shining a glorious white. Something was odd about that, but Sam couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe the murals looked too new?

He blinked. Was - was that her? He could just about see a woman standing at the opposite end of the room, with her back to him - but she was a little out of focus.

Sam shook his head. Maybe he had been concussed.

“___?” He called tentatively.

When the woman turned to face him, he inhaled sharply. She was stunningly gorgeous, with blonde hair trailing down her shoulders and sharp blue eyes gazing at him. High cheekbones, chiselled face, elegant physique - she was a picture of pure beauty.  
“Hello, Sam.” Her voice was sharp and scintillating, but lulled him into a sense of ease. No - ease wasn’t the right word. A sort of - fuzziness befell him, his head filled with cotton wool.

How did she know his name? Sam shook his head again. Why wouldn’t she know his name? It made sense.

“Hello.” Distantly, he could hear his own voice, raspy and tired and scratchy. “Who are you?”  
“I’m Alexandra. Sam, don’t be stupid. You’ve known me for years.”

Years. Of course - he’d known this brunette with the dead-straight hair for years. It made sense. Except he could’ve sworn she was blonde a second ago, and her eyes were now a soft brown - not the same piercing blue as a second ago.

He was being stupid. People changed their hair colour all the time. He was concussed, definitely. It made sense.

“Sorry, Alexandra. I think I must’ve got hit on the head or something.”  
“Mmm. Let me see.” And her hands were running through his hair, soft and beautiful. She smelt amazing, Sam thought, smiling giddily. But she was fast. She must’ve been, to get to the other end of the room so quickly. It made sense, that she was so fast that Sam didn’t even see it. “You’re bleeding.”  
“Oh.” That made sense.  
“I can make it better.” Suddenly, her lips were at his neck, and trailing down his jaw. Sam glimpsed some of her curls of dark-brown, almost black in the light.

He could’ve sworn he knew someone else who did that. There was a figure, on the edge of his memory, but it was fuzzy and far away - and he couldn’t concentrate when those lips were softly kissing his skin. Somebody else kissed him like that, and they were important, but he still couldn’t see their face in his mind.

Maybe Alexandra would know. After all, they’d known each other for years, right?

“Alexandra, do you-“ he gasped as her teeth met his flesh, pulling at the skin. The pain jolted his mind a little, giving him a second of clearer thought. Her.

“Do you know where ___ is?” He asked, breathless. The woman pulled back, a steely look in her sparkling green eyes as she swept her ginger waves aside.  
“That depends. Who is she?”  
“She’s my-“ Sam hesitated. His what?  
“What does she look like?” Alexandra was kissing his face this time, and trailing her hands down his chest. It felt good, so good that Sam struggled to stay on track.  
“She has.... hair. It’s.... I don’t know.And-“ he paused again, remembering something new. “She has a pistol. Maybe - wait, no, she‘s the same height as you, maybe a little taller.” The image was clearer now. Her - with her smiley laugh and her dogged attitude and that scar on her left elbow she earned from a brutal fall with Sam.

They had spent a lot of time together. A lot, Sam remembered. Why?

“She doesn’t sound very interesting. Your head injury is probably acting up again.” The voice that murmured into his skin was soft and sultry, but Sam couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.  
“She is interesting. She’s kind, and beautiful, and smart, and funny and -“  
“Sam, if you kiss me, I can fix your head.” The urgency in Alexandra’s voice stirred his mind a little more.  
“I - I don’t want to kiss you. I want to kiss someone else.”  
“No you don’t. You want to kiss me.” Now, the voice was ugly and demanding, hissing low in his ear.  
“No. I love someone else.” He muttered, stepping back. Alexandra followed, her features twisted and contorted by rage. She looked - predatory.  
“No you don’t! Forget about her!” She screeched, making Sam’s ears ring. The image of the woman in his head grew clearer as Sam clenched his fists defiantly.  
“No! I - I love ___!”

It sounded right to say that. It really did make sense, this time.

The fog over his mind dissipated, and Sam blinked. The murals and pillars had long since crumbled, the colours dull and dead. The torches that had given a golden light now hung unlit against the walls, the grey darkness hanging over the room.

Alexandra wasn’t beautiful, all of a sudden. She looked the same as she had before, with blonde hair and blue eyes, but Sam couldn’t help but feel repulsed by her. The stench of death emanated from her, and her teeth were yellow and cracked. Her features weren’t defined and sharp - they were skeletal, with sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks. Rags hung about her, a brown that stank of blood and sweat.

Loosing an inhumane shriek, she lunged as Sam reflexively reached for his pistol - to find the holster empty. Of course, she’d taken it away - but he could see it lying a few metres away.

Diving to the side, he narrowly missed the scratch of her cracking nails. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grasped the gun, and without fumbling, shot her in the forehead.

For a second, she kneeled, motionless, eyes glazed over - before the hole he’d left began to repair itself.

What the fuck is this?

“Samuel Drake.” Her mouth didn’t exactly move in sync with her words, as if there was a lag between the two. It was unnerving.  
“What the fuck are you?” He kept his gun raised, ready to shoot her as she stood facing him.  
“I am the Last Siren. My sisters died long ago, at the hands of mortals, and left me in charge of judging the hearts of men.  
“Alexandra.” He remembered briefly. “Defender of Men.”  
“Indeed.”  
“Except it didn’t feel like you were fuckin’ defending me. You - you put some spell on me, tried to make me forget her, but-“  
“It did not work.” The siren eyed him with wary suspicion. “I did not expect that. It is my role to defend men from themselves, showing them the error of their ways, and punishing them accordingly.”  
“You were gonna kill me!” He yelled, still a little disoriented.  
“Apparently that is not necessary.”  
“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

There was a silence in the air. Sam was half-afraid she was going to try and attack him again, but she opened her mouth to speak instead.  
“Your heart is blackened by your sins, Drake. If you were a less fortunate man, you would be dead by now.”  
“Waddya mean less fortunate?”  
“You have a saviour, of sorts. Your love. She is much more pure than you could ever be, and has a great future ahead of her - but for you, the best you must hope is that she loves you long enough to wipe away your sins and cleanse your heart.”  
“I don’t understand.”  
“Of course you do, Drake. You’re many things, but stupid? I think not.”  
“You’re saying that she has to love me long enough to - to save me?” Chuckling, he shook his head. “That’s bullshit.”  
“We both know it’s the truth. Do you not want to be a better man now then ever before?”

She was right. Sam had always thought that she made him be better, if not only because he wanted to avoid her look of utter disappointment every time he did something he knew was wrong, and it broke his heart and-

“She is the only way for you to save yourself. Give her everything.”  
“I would’ve done that anyway.” Sam muttered.  
“I know. But you cannot ever hurt her, for every ounce of pain you cause her weighs the same as a thousand sins on your heart.”  
“What are you saying?”  
“Samuel Drake, I will be watching you closely. If you cannot cleanse your heart, I will finish what was started today. I am the defender of man, and if you cannot change by way of love, you must be killed to protect humanity.”  
“That’s-“ he chuckled. “That’s a little extreme. I’m not that bad.”  
“You jest, unknowing of all the pain and havoc your wreak upon this earth. At this moment, humanity would be better without you. It’s up to you to change that.”

Sam blinked, and she was gone.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She shouldn’t have opened the door, she thought. It was a mistake. She should’ve known who it was, and ignored it. Dumbass.

“Please let me in.” Sam begged at the door, leaning against the frame. It was pouring outside, and he was soaked to the bone. Simply nodding, she heard Sam breathed a sigh of relief.  
“What do you want?” Her tone was flat, and emotionless - it broke his heart.  
“I love you-“  
Her eyes flashed. “Don’t.”  
“I made a mistake. I can’t live without you. You know that. I’m so, so sorry. I’ll do anything for you, please. Just -“ tears spilled over onto his cheeks. “Please just take me back.”  
“For what?” She snapped. “For months of being stood up, ignored, yelled at? I don’t think so.” She laughed humourlessly.  
“Look, I know I didn’t value you enough. I always loved you, but I didn’t show it, and I’m sorry, truly. I wish I could go back and change that, I really do. But I can’t, and I just need you to know that I love you more than anything and I hate the way I treated you so, so much.”  
“Sam, I’ve given you enough chances. Just leave me alone.”  
“Please. I love you.”  
“Well, I wish I could say the same!” She yelled, angry. Surprise sprang across Sam’s face, as he whispered to her, scared to say anything to make her angrier.  
“Look me in the eye and say it.”

Forcing her eyes to meet his, she spoke flatly and and monotonously.  
“I don’t love you any more.”

Sam felt his heart stop.

“Okay.” He said, and left.

She - she didn’t love him, and he didn’t blame her. It was all his fault - and he hated himself for it too. God, how he wished he could convince her that this time he’d do it differently, and that he’d take a bullet for her, and he loved more than he thought was possible. The mere thought of losing her made him want to curl up and die, and now it was real.

But she was right. He had too many chances. He hated himself, truly, and understood what Alexandra had told him all those years ago.

He must not have a heart, he thought. He must be some kind of monster, the most evil of evil, to have done this to her. Months of mistreating the most perfect woman he’d ever met - and he must’ve been the most disgusting scum-of-the-earth to have done so.

Maybe he should just drive his car off the bridge, he thought. It would be crazy, but there wouldn’t be any point in living if she wasn’t with him.

It was late, he thought. If he was going to go to all the trouble of killing himself - though he knew he’d never actually do it - he may as well wait for the morning.

 

That night, the Last Siren visited him in his dreams.  
“I told you.” She said.  
“Are you going to kill me?” He asked.  
“It will take many months to travel to you. And then I will kill you. I want to have the satisfaction of ripping out your blackened heart with my own hands.” She spat. Sam nodded.  
“Fair enough.” He deserved it. Alexandra had been right.  
“I wish I could say I was sorry.” The siren told him. “But I’m not. She always deserved better than you. It’s only because of her own purity it took her so long to realise this. I will enjoy ridding humanity of your blight, Drake.”  
“You were right.” He said. “Of course you were. But I was stupid, and arrogant. I didn’t pay attention.”  
Alexandra bared her teeth. “Men.”  
“I’m not a man. I’m a monster.” He felt the tears drop down his cheeks.  
“Now you finally understand, Drake. Unfortunately, it is too late.”  
“I know.”  
“You must prepare for the final months of your life, Sam. Make peace with the gods. You can only now hope for a fair judgement.”  
He could feel her leaving his mind, her tendrils loosening from his dream.  
“Wait.” She paused. “Was - was it possible? That I could’ve become better? That she-“ he sobbed. “That she could’ve loved me to the end?”  
“If I told you the truth, would it comfort you?”  
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be dead soon.”  
Alexandra regarded him with - pity? “Of course it was possible, Sam. You could have gotten married, and you would’ve had three beautiful children. The eldest, Cassie, would have been an archaeologist. Your second child, Connor, would have been a famous artist. Your youngest, Anna, would have been a politician held in the highest esteem. And when you grew old, the pair of you could have retired to the beach in Australia and she would have written a book based on your experiences together. You could have made a small fortune, and bought a tiny island not far from the coast. On the island, you would have found an ancient indigenous artefact, and found a lost city full of gold and riches, adventuring until your last breaths. You would both die holding each other, surrounded by loving family.

“You simply made the wrong decisions.”

The pang of knowing what Sam could’ve had was too much. “So it really is my fault.”  
“Of course. What did you expect? A cosmic injustice? A force of evil? Bad luck?” She laughed. “Pathetic. This is your fault, Drake, and no-one else can be of blame.”  
“I hate myself.” He said.  
“With good reason.”  
“I love her.”  
“If only you had acted like it.”  
“I can’t live without her.”  
“You’ll only be doing so for a few months.”  
“Is there any chance I can-“  
“No.”  
“So - this is it? I’m gonna die?”  
“That is the plan.”  
“What do I do until then?”  
“Drake, if I were you, I would try and put things right. She’ll never love you again, of course, but maybe she won’t have to hate you.”  
“She really does hate me, doesn’t she?”  
“A consequence of your own actions.”  
“I’ll do anything if it means she’ll love me again. Tell me there is something.”  
“There is nothing.”  
“I-“ Sam couldn’t find the energy to be angry. “I wish I could kiss her one last time, at least.”  
“I doubt you will.”  
“Alexandra, do you-“ he paused, not sure if he should be asking this at all. “Do you know why I-“  
“No.” His companion laughed mercilessly. “I am not all-knowing, Drake. There are some questions that only you can answer.”  
“Then I guess I’ll see you around.”  
“Indeed.” She said, and then he woke up.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey.” He smiled wanly, trying not to cry.  
“Sam, if you’re here to say that you love me or something, I’m not interested.”  
“I wasn’t going to say that.” The pain in his stomach was almost too much to bear - there were times where he’d declare his love for her a thousand times over, pressing kisses into her skin, and she had loved it.  
“Oh. Come in, then.”

They sat across from each other on the couch, somewhat awkwardly. Sam thought he may as well begin.  
“I am so, so goddamn sorry for the way I treated you. You deserve better than what I can give you, and it is the biggest regret of my life that I messed this up.”  
“You’ve still got time to make some more regrets.” She semi-joked, eyes crinkling at the corners. Sam wondered if he should tell her she was wrong - that he didn’t have time, that he’d be dead by the end of the year - but decided against it. What would be the point?  
“It will always be the biggest regret of my life.” He said firmly. “I- I’m not apologising because I want you to take me back or something - I know that’s not gonna happen. And anyway, I wouldn’t let you do that to yourself again.” He couldn’t look at her kind eyes any more. Instead, he stared down at his shaking hands.  
“Sam, don’t say that. It - it wasn’t all bad. We had fun, it was just that you - you could be...” she trailed off, struggling to find the right words without hurting him. Sam smiled. Even now, she was concerned about his feelings. How could he have ever thought he’d deserve her?  
“I neglected you. I ignored you. I treated you like you were dirt. I yelled at you for no reason. I flirted with other women. I never apologised to you. I just gave you shit, day in and day out, and never stopped to think about your feelings.”  
“Sam-“  
“But I love you. I really do. I just don’t understand why I-“ he broke off, sobbing. “Why I did that to you.”  
“Sam, it’s okay. I forgive you. We all make mistakes.”

But the look on his face betrayed his hurt, and she knew instantly she’d said the wrong thing.  
“Please don’t say that.” He whispered hoarsely. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. And I hate that you’re so amazing, and kind, and so selfless you’ll forgive me just to make me feel better and I still made you feel like shit.”  
“I’m sorry, I-“  
“No. Don’t be. I fucked up. I was a dick, and I never deserved you. I know that you don’t love me, and I’m okay with that. Well, I’m not, it breaks my heart, but it’s the right thing. I just can’t leave you without letting you know that I completely understand and I am so, so-“ wiping away tears, he attempted to calm himself with some steadying breaths. “I’m so fucking sorry. I can’t undo what I did, I can’t make you love me again, but I need you to know that I love you more than anything and I will never regret anything more than the way I treated you.”

A slightly stunned silence hung in the air. He could feel her hand reach to hold his tentatively, and he gripped it as if it was the only thing tethering him to this paltry existence. He couldn’t say any more, and he couldn’t do anything, except sob his heart out to the girl who deserved so much more than he could offer her.

“Sam.” She whispered softly. “I really do forgive you. I know it’s not what you want to hear, and you don’t think you deserve it-“ she pushed back a few strands of hair from his face as he raised his chin to gaze at her thought the haze of tears. “But I don’t care about this idea of “deserving”. I refuse to limit myself to the idea that I deserve anything other than basic human decency. And that goes for everyone - including you, Samuel.”  
“But I couldn’t even give you that basic decency.”  
She shrugged. “Let’s say I’m doing it for the both of us, eh? I forgive you, truly.”  
“But-“  
“Shh.” She wrapped her arms around him and brought him into her chest, allowing him to sob into her shirt. “It’s okay, Samuel. I’m okay, you’ll be okay - hell, I’m sure our friendship can still be okay. After all, we made a hell of a good team before we fell in love, right?”  
“Yeah.” He laughed a little.  
“It’s okay, Sammy.” His heartstrings pulled at the loving nickname. It made him feel small, like he was a child again.  
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t learn to be better for you.”  
“Well, now you know, right?” Her coarse fingers traversed through his hair. “You know for next time.”

There won’t be a next time, he wanted to say, but once again chose not to. If he only had a few months left with her, he wanted to enjoy it with her carelessness and lack of direction. Besides, he didn’t mind dying too much.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey, Sammy.” She called from the kitchen. Whenever she called him by that nickname he felt her pull at his heartstrings.  
“Yeah?”  
“Do you want an omelette?”  
“Nah, I’m good.”  
She walked in, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Good. I wasn’t really in the mood to make it.”  
“So I did you a favour?” He grinned. She threw a nearby cushion at him.  
“Barely. Find anything useful yet?”  
“Other than an old conspiracy theorist claiming that the pyramids were built in 1673 - no.” He looked up from his computer. “These guys are your thing anyway. Why am I doing the research?”  
“I’m lazy.” She laughed, flopping onto the sofa beside him. “This is shit anyway. Your client is a big ol’ pile of BS.”  
“No, he’s-“  
“What? Some guy who believes that half of the Rosetta Stone is still out there?”  
“It might be.”  
“It was destroyed at the scene, Sam.”  
“Well, life is full of surprises. Remember Greece?”  
She laughed. “What, those shitty cyclops? Fine, I didn’t expect that, but we have to be reasonable here.”  
“Do you want me to tell the client we won’t take it, then?”  
“Yeah. And give him back the deposit.”  
“That was gonna pay this month’s rent!” Sam protested. “Can we at least keep some of it?”  
“I’ll give you the money. Or you can stay at mine.”  
“Nah, I don’t want to trouble you.”  
“Shut up. Give him back all of it.” She gave him that winning grin. “Hey, we’ll get another case soon. A real one.”  
“Yeah.” Sam agreed with a frown. “Sure we will.”

He didn’t know how to tell her that this was supposed to be their last job together, before that damned siren came to get him.

“Is something wrong?” Softly, her voice awoke him from his thoughts.  
“No - nothing.” He replied a little to hastily.  
“Sam, honey, please tell me the truth.” Sparkling eyes looked up at him. Cautiously, she clasped his hands.  
“I-“ he sighed. “I don’t know.”  
“Sam, please - I want to be here for you. If you don’t want to tell me, I completely understand, but over the past few months you’ve bee-“  
“I’m going to die.”

He don’t know what came over him. All of a sudden his lips were moving of their own accord, his eyes were filling with tears and the flush was rising to his cheeks. One glance at her face told all; she had, quite suddenly, turned so pale he thought she might faint. Her eyebrows were raised, her face betraying utter confusion - it broke his heart.

“Wha- what?” She whispered.  
“I-“ he sighed. God only knew what he could say. “When we went to Greece, I met a Siren - Alexandra - and she said that I was such a shitty person that-“ sobbing, he broke off. She made no move to bring him closer. “That I could only hope to live if- if I could take care of you, and I- I fucking fai- failed.” He couldn’t see anything now - just dashes and streaks of colour beyond the blur of the tears in his eyes. “And a few months ago, she - she told me that,” pausing, he tried to take a deep breath to calm himself. “She told me that she was going to come here and kill me.”

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Sam was once again confronted by her beautiful but oh-so-hurt face as she remained... motionless, shocked.

“Please say something.” He whispered.  
“I-“ she shook her head. “Tell me this is some shitty joke.”  
“I wish I could.”  
“You - you can’t... die!” This time, it was her turn to sob, tears coming to her eyes.  
“It’s oka- okay. I’ve co- come to terms with it.” He stuttered through his words, sobbing.  
“Sam!” Her voice cracking with anguish, Sam wrapped his arms around her shoulders.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“No!” Her body was trembling. “You can’t be sorry! You have to be alive!”  
“I-“  
“I’ll take you back.” She said, a sudden ferocity in her eyes. “If it will make sure you live.”  
“No! No. You don’t even love me any more.”  
“I can learn to again.”  
“Al, no. I’d rather die than treat you so badly again.”  
“But you won’t, right?” She had hope in her eyes, a glimmer of a smile on her face.  
“This is how it has to be.”  
“Sam, please.” She whispered into his neck, her soft lips brushing against his cool skin.  
“I-I can’t.”  
“Please.” Her touch set his skin alight, her hands caressing his calloused cheeks.

Dear God, it was tempting. Tempting to have her back in his arms, tempting to kiss her again, tempting to promise he’d never hurt her-

“No.” And there was a tone of finality; it was clear he wasn’t going to yield.  
“Sam, baby,” she cooed softly in his ear. “We can try again. I know it was hard last time, but-“  
“I’m not having you force yourself into a relationship you don’t want just to save me.”  
“Sammy," he really wished she’d stop calling him that. “Let’s just give this a go. If- if I feel the same way, and so do you, then we can stop. The least I can do is make you happy before..." she trailed off, not willing to say it.  
“Please-“  
“Just kiss me, Sam.” And there was a lilt in her voice that made him forget all the reasons they shouldn’t do this all over again.  
“I never stopped loving you.” He whispered. God, it was so cliché, and he hated it, but it was true.  
“I know.”

It felt... damn, he didn’t even know how to describe it. When her lips pressed against his with such gentleness and love, he almost cried with joy. They were soft - as always - and her touch was kind, her hand gently caressing his cheek.

Wait. What was he doing? She didn’t want this!

Painfully, he tore away from her lips, eyes filling with tears. She looked at him with a terrifying mixture of hurt and anger.  
“Sam?”  
“I-“ desperate for some solace from the terrible act he’d commit, he cleared his throat. “I can’t do this to you. Please, God, just - just stop.”  
“But I can save you!”  
“Please, ba- listen. I don’t want you to force yourself to do this.”  
“I’m not. Sammy-“  
“Stop calling me that!” He snapped. Goddammit, she made it so much harder with every word she said. Refusing to meet her eye, he didn’t acknowledge her pain at all. “Listen. Do you really wanna know why I can’t do this?”  
“Why?”

Steeling himself, Sam prepared to destroy his last shred of humanity.

“I don’t love you.” He gazed down at his clenched fists, forcing himself to continue. “I never loved you. Alexandra wasn’t even talking about you.”  
“Sam, what are you-“  
“I cheated on you.” And it was a terrible, terrible lie, and he could feel his last hope of life shrivel up and die. “So many times. You don’t even know. Sometimes it was with some random woman at a bar, but - but most often, it was Chloe.”  
“Please, no.” She whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her bottom lip trembled, and Sam would do anything just to tell her that he was lying, and that he loved her more than anything, but he couldn’t let her force herself to love him.  
“You wanna know when? Whenever I could. When I was on a trip, or at Nate’s, or- or when you were in the hospital.” Ignoring the pain in her eyes, he continued on, hating himself more with every word. “And God, it felt so good. I wanted to break up with you, or something, but you were a good business partner, and I thought I’d make more money with you.”

She just sat there, completely and utterly silent. Brutally, he pushed on.

“And then, when you broke up with me, I felt this relief, this freedom, but I knew I couldn’t succeed alone. So, God, I begged and I begged and I begged for you to take me back, because I knew if you did, there’d be a pot of gold at the end of it.” He paused, not daring to look up at her. “And you wanna know the truth? No-one could ever love you. Do you know how much self control I had to have just to kiss you? And whenever we had sex, and I felt dirty all over - that was you. That was all you.”

A moment of silence.

“Please tell me this is a horrible tactic to get me to leave you.” She said in a small voice. Sam’s heart broke a little more - after all of this, she still wanted to see the best in him.  
“No. This is the truth.”

She just got up and left. He heard the roar of her car engine outside, and saw the flash of headlights through the window, and that was it.

She was gone.


	2. A Second Chance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in about half an hour, so it’s not amazing, but I couldn’t just leave the ending like that. Enjoy! :)

The door creaked open.

 

She could see only the back of the couch, with an arm hanging over the edge, grasping a half-empty glass of whiskey with his fingertips.

“Samuel Drake.” She hissed. He didn’t bother turning around.

“Alex.” He slurred. “Good of you to finally come. Sit down. Let’s have a chat.”

“I am here to kill you.”

“Yeah, well. Waited this long, right?”

 

Sullenly, she took her seat opposite him. His eyes were hollow, his cheeks pale, and he stank of sweat and alcohol - Alexandra all but wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I was gonna kill myself, you know?” Taking another sip, he rambled on. “God knows I’ve got enough ways to do it. I was gonna die anyway. And then I thought, you’re coming all this way, and I don’t wanna make any problems for you.”

“I take it you did not fare well with her.”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen her in a month. Last time I did, I-“ drunkenly, he began to sob. “I fucking killed her. On the inside.”

“I’m sure it was painful.” She said, impatiently.

“It was. You know, she wanted to have kids, right? She always did. And she always said that I’d be a great dad, and that kids would love me. I mean, I’m not so great with them, but for her,” he took another gulp of his whiskey. “For her, I would’ve done anything.”

“I’m sure.”

“And Nate. Ah, he won’t speak to me this past week. I guess he found out, maybe I called him, or she told him, or whatever. He knows I broke her heart. Even though she said she didn’t love me! Heh, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I remember. I don’t wanna die while my brother’s not speaking to me and everyone in my life fucking hates me, but they’ll all still be at the funeral, right? And they’ll say that I wasn’t perfect, and I had flaws, but I was special and blah blah blah. No-one’s gonna say what a shitty person I was. Why would you? It’s a funeral.” When he laughed, it was pitiful and humourless. “My funeral.”

“Shall we get down to business, then?”

“Not yet. I wanna drink till I pass out. And then you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

 

Alexandra just waited in silence for him to continue.

 

“What’s gonna happen to her now? I’m guessing she’s not gonna be all that upset, right? She’ll probably get herself some new guy, and they’ll get married, and he’ll treat her all nice and special, and they’ll be in love and she’ll be happy. I mean that’s nice for her, that’s great, but she’s always gonna hate me.”

“I believe you underestimate her. She is, after all, kinder than you or I.”

“That’s true. But whatever. I’ll be dead, so I don’t care.” He took another sip from the near-empty glass. “That’s a lie. I care. I care waaaay too fucking much. Hey, do you think that she’ll name one of her kids after me?” He snorted. “Yeah, nah. ‘Sam’ isn’t exactly a great name, and I’m a shitty person, so I dunno.”

 

A silence lapsed between the two. Alexandra has nothing to say, and Sam seemed deep in thought.

“Can you tell the future?”

“No. I can only tell what may happen, not what will happen.”

“Uh-huh. And what may happen here?”

“In almost every possible outcome, I kill you, and then I return home. There are some odd ones - but there always are.”

“Like?”

“Some, you take that gun and shoot yourself. Some, she comes back and watches you die. Some, she tries to save you.”

“So it’s possible?” He sat up straighter, a look of hope crawling its way across his drunken features. “She can come back?”

“The chances are one in six hundred thousand.”

“Yeah, well, I was never all that good at math.” Defeated, he slumped down once again, draining the last of the alcohol from his glass. He dropped it against the floor, and it split into two even pieces. Laughing, he looked down at it. “Hey, look. It’s almost like I break everything I touch.”

 

Alexandra was inclined to agree.

 

She was about to speak - suggest that she do the deed and finish it as quickly as possible - but a harsh, urgent knocking at the door prevented her.

“I’ll get it.” Sam slurred. Alexandra saw no reason to stop him.

 

When he opened the door, the first thing the siren realised was that it was raining heavily. The second thing was that she was standing in the doorway, soaked to the bone.

 

“Sam!” She gasped. “Oh, thank goodness you’re safe, I had such a terrible dream, I-“ Catching sight of the deathly figure in the armchair, she stopped, paling considerably. “It was true.” She whispered.

“Hey!” Sam was far too cheerful. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to stop her from killing you.” She didn’t take her eyes off Alexandra.

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m over it.”

 

She ignored him, addressing the siren instead. “What are you doing?”

“I am here to kill Samuel. He has failed his judgement.”

“And who are you to judge? Some old skeleton with a posh accent?”

“I am-“

“The Last Siren, yadda yadda yadda. I don’t give two shits. Get lost.”

“No!” Alexandra’s nostrils flared and her eyes flashed with sudden fury. “You are not the judge!”

“The way I see it, your ‘judgement’ - though it seemed pretty shitty - hinges on wether or not I’m happy with Sam. And I am. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You can’t lie to me.”

“Says who?”

“The Ancient forces that govern this world!”

“Yeah, well, these ‘ancient forces’ haven’t been around lately, and I guess they don’t really care about one guy, so I think it would be best if you leave.” Although she had a smile on her face, something about her tone set Alexandra on edge.

“I must fulfil my duty.”

“Then go somewhere else and do it. There are plenty of bad people out there, but Sam isn’t one of them.”

“I-“

“Listen.” This time, her voice was dangerously low, and as much as the siren hated to admit - somewhat threatening. “If you don’t leave I’m going to but a fucking bullet in your brain. And if that doesn’t work, then I’ll have to come up with new ways to kill you. Wooden stakes, Greek fire, old artefacts - I’ve got all of it. Just fuck right off.”

“I’ve travelled so fa-“

“I’m sure your airline will give you a refund.” When she smiled, it was humourless and menacing.

“Samuel.” Alexandra declared with finality. “I shall leave you now. But I will always be watching you.”

Sam laughed deliriously. “Sure thing, lady.”

 

Alexandra turned - and just like that, she was gone.

 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

 

Slowly, Sam’s eyes blinked open. There was a harsh light hanging above him, and he had a pounding headache.

“Ah, Jesus.” Gingerly, he tried to sit up. A few seconds later, smooth hands ran up his arm, helping him up.

“Hey.” Squinting, he could just about make out - holy shit, was that her?

“Hey. Wha- what are you doing here?”

“I had a dream about you. It was...” she trailed off, clearly upset. “Here, I made you some coffee.”

 

Sam knew not to press it.

 

“What happened last night... was that-“

“Real? Yeah. Who would’ve thought that some supposedly super powerful being could be scared away by my shit-talking?”

“Heh. Yeah.”

 

An awkward silence settled between the two as they sipped their coffee. Sam took the opportunity to survey her - she looked almost the same, except for a few bruises and cuts. Along with the golden tan, it was clear she’d just come back from a job.

 

“So, you’ve just arrived, right?”

She nodded, a little surprised he’d worked it out. “Yeah. Came back from Sicily.”

“Nice there?”

“Yeah. I managed to grab a lot of extra stuff. The whole country’s a goddamn goldmine.”

“That’s good. Hey, uh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what made you come back?”

“I don’t know.” She said honestly. “I had a dream, and I can’t really remember most of it - but you were in pain, Sam, and you couldn’t bear it. It was - horrifying. As soon as I woke up, I knew something was wrong.”

“Little too convenient you had it last night, huh?”

“Probably those ‘ancient forces’ at work.” She laughed.

 

Another, brief moment of silence.

 

“But really, why’d you come back?”

She sighed. “I’m not stupid. I know you said all of that because you didn’t want me to force myself into a relationship or anything. So-“

“God, I’m so sorry.” Tears rushed to his eyes in a sudden flood of emotion. “Everything I said, it wasn’t true, and I hate myself for say-“

“Hey, Sam.” She placed a comforting hand over his. “I know. It’s okay. We don’t need to discuss it.”

“Thank you.” He gasped.

“It’s fine. Anyway, I couldn’t just leave you, and I thought that you needed my help, so,” she shrugged. “I came back. I didn’t really think much about it.”

“You didn’t have to. God knows it.”

“Yeah, well.” Casually, she stood, taking Sam’s empty mug before leaving them on the kitchen counter.

 

_What_ _happens_ _now?_  Sam thought.

 

Almost as if she’d heard him thinking, she spoke again. “I think... I think we should try again. Romantically, I mean.”

 

All of a sudden, his heart felt as if it was leaping out of his chest, a wide grin snaking up his face. He struggled to swallow it - but to no avail. A second chance.

“Are you sure-“

“Yes.” Her tone was curt, final.

“O-okay.”

 

He really _was_ a lucky bastard.


End file.
